Envy
by K. Ra
Summary: Draco Malfoy never claimed to be nice, and he certainly never acted it - but why? [Draco Story oo Duh, DMx?]


"Mommy, [i]look[/I], isn't that-"  
  
"[I]Shhhhhhhhhsh[/I], come along Natalie."  
  
"But [I]Mommy[/I], isn't that."  
  
But the little girl didn't have a chance to finish her sentence because her mother grabbed her arm and had dragged out of Flourish and Blots before she could utter another word.  
  
Draco watched in amusement as the witch sent a fearful glance back through the glass at him, before pulling her daughter into her own arms and hurrying herself away. The little girl turned in her mother's arm, her eyes wide and wondering as she got her last glance at the son of the infamous Lucius Malfoy.  
  
People reacting oddly to Draco hadn't been all that uncommon in the summer before Draco's 6th year. Right before the break, the Daily Prophet had printed an article listing Draco's father as one of the (newly caught) risen Deatheaters, and people had jeered at him in the streets. Then, it had changed once again, last week the Daily Prophet had ran a new article about those Deatheaters - and their escape, and now people tended to look away from him, frightened.  
  
Draco smirked as he turned away from the window and looked around Flourish and Blotts. A thin man who had been staring at the back of his head suddenly jumped as they made eye contact, and buried his large nose behind a copy of 'W' Magazine, but Draco could see the gray eyes still watching him from over the top of the magazine.  
  
But glaring down people and watching them flinch away did get rather old even if he was a Malfoy, especially since the store was already empty due to the early hour that he was there, and from his entrance - and so, after giving the man another cold stare - Draco headed up towards the 'Dark-Arts' section upstairs over the balcony.  
  
The Dark Arts section was gloomy, unlike the rest of the store was shadowed in darkness and the shelves were old and moldy. He supposed that they were trying to put people off of buying them, but Draco wasn't an easily persuaded person.  
  
He glanced up and down the shelves, reading the titles thoughtfully - he had read most of them already, they were in his father's library. His father's library was quite extensive, and had much more books then this rubbish store had probably ever sold, and he wasn't even going to compare it to the joke of a library at his school, Hogworts - but then of course, his father did [I]everything[/I] better then everyone else.  
  
He read the side of one of the books, [I]'Curses of the 20th Century'[/I], and pulled it off of the shelf and opening it. The pages were written in lacy black writing, and next to every curse was a little illustration of their effects.  
  
Draco had already read many books like this, but the way he saw it - it never could hurt to read too many, after all, it was good to know a curse or a jinx or two for when the situation had called for it. Last year, he'd made good use of a 'Sick-Spell' he'd read about in a book like this, and it had ended with a second-year being in the infirmary for two weeks.  
  
He pulled off his Slytherin cloak in a swift movement, and deposited on the arm of a large maroon chair, before collapsing onto it himself, opening the book, and beginning to read.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was still reading a good three hours later, and he was periodically ripping out particularly informative pieces and stuffing them into the pocket of his trousers, when he heard a loud commotion downstairs.  
  
He scowled at the sound, since it had ripped his attention away from 'Confusing Curses - The Hardest of the Hard', a particularly good chapter. Then, his scowl deepened as he recognized the voices that made up the clatter, indeed, he had heard them far more often then he might have liked - and the tones and pitches of their voices seemed to be imbedded on his brain.  
  
He stood up, hoping, praying, wishing, it wasn't who he thought he was - but as he leaned over the ledge for a look, he saw them - a mass of bushy brown hair, messy black locks, and loads and loads of red hair.  
  
His grip tightened on the book, and a wave of annoyance surged through him, [I]'It would figure,'[/I] He thought to himself, [I]'That they would come to this bookstore, just when I am here.'[/I]  
  
At that moment, the tallest of them - What's-his-face Weasley let out an uproarious laugh as he acted out something to the laughing and grinning others, and Draco cringed against the sound. That damn Weasly and his voice was an annoyance to society, he pulled back his arm holding the book, and before he knew it - he had hurled it at Weasly.  
  
"FUCK!"  
  
Draco clapped a hand across his mouth against his laughter for a split second as Weasly grabbed his head as the book hit him square on it, they all stared wildly about - and Draco had just enough time to compose himself before they all looked at where the book come from - him.  
  
He smiled sweetly, and leaned across the banister - before putting up a hand and waving brightly at them; "Alright there, Weasly?"  
  
"Malfoy!" He snarled, his face turning an angry color, his freckles dissolved as his face turned bright red and they blended in.  
  
"That's a good color for you, Weasly." Draco continued, smirking, "Now you don't look like you've got a bad case of leprosy."  
  
Weasly immediately launched into a series of curses, and Draco snorted to himself (How [I]utterly juvenile[/I]') before he turned and headed down the stairs. There was a part of him that enjoyed angrying them, making them pay for all they had done, how they had messed up everything.  
  
.He turned to face them dead on once he reached the bottom of the stairs, and he smirked as he surveyed them. There were six of them there, and they were all glaring at Draco.  
  
There were the fat twins, who were both wearing some campy Dragon-hide jackets, Draco's nose curled in distaste - they weren't good enough to be wearing Dragon-hide. Of course, Draco saw how some could find them attractive, he had once heard Pansy remark on it - but their rugged look didn't beat out the fact that they were both Weasley's - forever poor in his mind, dispute the success of their joke shop during the summer.  
  
Next there was the littlest one there, '[I]What was her name?[/I]' Draco had only met her a few times before, but it was interesting how good genes popped up in even the slummiest of families, for Ginny was quite pretty.a bit on the flat side for Draco's taste, but still, worth admiring.  
  
His gaze flickered over the last of the Weasly's, his face was still flushed and he was sputtering angry. His tattered robes came up to his ankle, was it possible that he'd grown even more during the summer? Draco scowled, he hadn't grown much at all - and he was pretty sure he only came up to Ron's shoulder at the moment.  
  
There was of course, the Mudblood - she looked average enough, rather plain. Her teeth, he noted, still stuck out slightly - even though he was sure she'd tried magic to fix them, and for some reason that amused him.  
  
The last in the group, was Harry - and he was glaring at Draco the most. He was getting tall as well, but not as tall as the Weasly - his eyes were dark, and he looked thinner then Draco saw him last. '[I]He's having a bad time then,[/I] Draco thought to himself, and his face twisted into a smirk again, [I] 'Good.'[/I]  
  
"What do you want, [I]Malfoy[/I]." The little Weasly said, hands on her non- existant hips as she glared at him.  
  
Draco feigned hurt, "Well, [I]Weasley[/I], can't I just say 'hello' to you every now and then? You know, slum it a bit?"  
  
She started to say something but the Mudblood clapped a hand over her mouth; "Just ignore him, Ginny." She said coolly, eying him up and down angrily, "He's not worth anything."  
  
"Oh, and we all know how much money those Weasley's are worth," Draco said, allowing his voice to drawl; His gaze flickered up Ron's too-short robes, "Look at their robes, right out of WQ."  
  
"Stuff it, Malfoy." One of the twins snapped, his eyes narrowing; as he took a threatening step forward. Draco was reminded of the year before; when they had practically pounced on him after a Quidditch match, and he took a step back before continuing;  
  
"And Potter, you're looking absolutely [I]charming[/I]," He whispered, aware that his voice was getting lower as an odd feeling inside him swelled and grew; his eyes danced as he noticed the bags under Harry's eyes; "I see you haven't been sleeping well, though." He clucked his tongue; "Tsk tsk, you really do need to keep up on your rest, what's the matter," He tilted his head in mock curiosity, and a sheath of his own blonde hair fell across his face; as he said in the lowest voice he could muster - "Bad dreams?"  
  
Harry made a strangled sound and started at Draco, but the Mudblood grabbed his sleeve and hissed, [I]"Don't let you get to you!"[/I]  
  
"Temper, temper." Draco muttered, reveling in the feelings he was causing - he hadn't thought the last comment would have much of an effect on Potter, but now that he thought of it - it must have caused some bad memories - and Potter [I]deserved[/I] them.he'd caused Draco so much trouble, "You must learn how to control that mind, for you know where acting so.foolishly.gets you?"  
  
Harry froze, and they met each other's eye - in his eye was almost a challenge, as if he were daring Draco to say something. Draco smiled smoothly, taking the bait, and he said - in the softest, sweetest voice he could muster; "It gets you dead, Potter - and you, of all people, should know that." He smiled very gently; "And you oughta know, that I'm [I]serious[/I] about that."  
  
Harry flung Hermione to the side - and he lunged himself at Draco.  
  
Serious = Sirus o_o Get it? Making a Sirus nudge. 


End file.
